


The Things We Don't Understand

by WonderBoy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Tension, this is just dorky and dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderBoy/pseuds/WonderBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dave Strider and there are very few things in this world that you don’t understand. Unfortunately for you, one of those things happens to be your very best friend-John Egbert. Like you, John is an enigma. Unlike you, who seems to baffle everyone you interact with save for John and your siblings, the only person who seems baffled by John is well…you. </p><p>Otherwise known as, in which the title and summary both make this story sound way more serious that it actually is or ever was supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Don't Understand

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I've been sick for the past couple of days and last night at like 2 in the morning I started writing something for this idea I got back in November that was "a fic that is basically just dave wondering why the hell john has such a choice ass when hes a nerd who doesnt do any fucking physical activity"
> 
> This didn't really end up following that starting idea, or at least it got a little more serious than that but whatever...
> 
> Also as a note, I mention the temperature in the piece and I'm from America so for those who use the Celsius scale I think the equivalent temperature to what I say in the fic is between like 15 and 20 degrees? And they're in high school but I actually attended a weird kind of college prep school so I tried to keep things as vague and basic as possible while they're in school.

\--> Your name is Dave Strider and there are very few things in this world that you don’t understand. Unfortunately for you, one of those things happens to be your very best friend-John Egbert. Like you, John is an enigma. Unlike you, who seems to baffle everyone you interact with save for John and your siblings, the only person who seems baffled by John is well…you.

It wasn’t as if you completely lacked any type of understanding of your best bro. It’s just that after all these years of friendship there were some aspects of John Egdork that you still could not fully comprehend.

You understand John’s likes and interests. You don’t quite know _why_ they’re John’s interests but you know them and have come to appreciate the part of John they represent. You know that at least 70% of the time, John has poor character judgement and tries to befriend all sorts of whack-jobs. You know what John likes about and values of himself and even more what he doesn’t-though some of his insecurities still seem absolutely nuts to you.

But you can’t seem to understand the boundless amounts of energy the kid seems to have. Or how he almost never allows the smile to falter from his lips. It is frustratingly bizarre how blue his eyes are when you literally wear shades 98% of the time you are with him regardless of conditions or locations and all colors should have been muted by your tinted glasses.

And for the love of God, you could not figure out how someone whose entire life consisted of sitting in front of a gaming system, pranking people, and playing the piano could possess the choicest ass you had ever seen either side of Mississippi but he did. You had a pretty slammin’ hot bod yourself, not to be _too_ vain, but you worked for yours dammit. Strifing took a lot of effort. John though-it was like the fucking Puberty Fairy came and gifted him with perfect…everything and then just got the hell out of dodge.

\--> Your name is John Egbert and by this point it is no secret that your best bro has been “subtly” checking you out for the past few weeks. The only question was _why_. You tried bringing it up with Dave himself but he quickly dismissed it as your imagination and changed the subject. 

Part of you was frustrated (sexually mostly) by Dave’s weird actions. Another part was a tiny bit thrilled. Most of your friends and schoolmates were familiar with your constant mantra of “not a homosexual” when you were thirteen. Then the past summer you had to go with some estranged great-uncle you had never heard of before, per your dad’s insistence, to help him out around his place. When you came back for the start of the new school year you were surprised to find Dave in the beginnings of _something_ with a mutual friend you could have sworn was interested in someone else when you left. Strangely you found yourself deeply irritated by their new closeness and after many late-night, long-lasting “feeling jams” (as Dave called them) with one of your good friends Rose, the two of you came to one simple conclusion. You had some very deep homosexual-or at the very least bisexual-feelings towards your best bro and you had been jealous as hell.

You were less jealous now as you and Dave slowly fell back into your old routine and Karkat seemed less and less actually romantically interested in Dave. But recently Dave’s been acting really weird and though you usually can’t see his eyes behind his shades you can feel them on you a lot more than they ever were before.

You’re determined to figure out what’s going on but it’s become pretty obvious you’re going to have to do it all on your own. Dave of course acts like there is nothing going on and the only other one who might have any idea what’s going on is Rose. And you know better than to ask her for help with this kind of stuff.

\--> Your name is Dave Strider and unfortunately, you’re at school. It’s your lunch hour which is slightly less painful that the rest of the school day but you still don’t want to be here. When you enter the lunch room you’re not surprised to see John already at the usual table alone. Though his back is to you and you tend to walk rather quietly, it’s like he has a sensor or something and can feel your presence. When you’re about half-way to the table John turns around and meets your eye. His eyes are still an unsettling bright shade of blue and when he sees that it’s you he smiles like you just made his day. You’re a Strider and Strider hearts _don’t_ flutter especially at dorky buck-toothed smiles, but they just _might_ skip a beat or two when caught off guard.

“Hey Dave!” John greets you like you hadn’t just seen each other two class periods ago but you can’t ever seem to be even a little bothered by his unbridled enthusiasm.

“Sup?” You give your usual greeting and slide onto the seat next to him.

“How was history?” John asks. It’s one of the few classes the two of you don’t share. You give a noncommittal shrug. You slept through most of it and John knows that but he always asks anyways. Before John can ask you anything else the table starts to fill with your other friends and John turns to greet them. Part of you wants to grab John and make him turn his attention back to you but you resign from doing something quite so embarrassing and sit there in silence, nodding hello to those who greet you as they sit down. John scoots his chair closer to you to make more room for whoever is sitting on the other side of him and you tense. The two of you are in completely different chairs but you can feel John’s entire thigh flush against your own and before you can even think about moving away from him before you do something stupid Terezi shoves a chair between you and Karkat, who’s arrival you’re not sure how you missed, leaving you absolutely nowhere to go. When you look up Rose is watching you and smiling like this was all part of her evil plan and everything is going just swimmingly. Sometimes you really hate your twin. When John finishes his greetings and whatever brief conversation he was having with Jade, he turns back around to look at you.

“Dave, are you cold?” John asks like he cannot believe how someone could be cold in the middle of April. Well it’s not your fault you’re originally from Texas and this damn school thinks it’s a good idea to blast the AC from the beginning of March to the end of the school year regardless of the temperature outside. Honestly you can feel your body heating up under John’s scrutiny and from how close he is to you but you’re not surprised that he’s asking with his leg pressed against yours. That boy is like a goddamn space heater.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, Egbert, of course I’m cold.” You complain, shifting in your seat. Somehow you manage to press your leg even closer to his and you try not to let your surprise show through on your face. John gives you a once over, taking in your skinny jeans and sweat shirt. He’s already changed out his jeans and sweaters for shorts and t-shirts and it’s not even to the sixties yet. You so don’t get this kid.

\--> Your name is John Egbert and you might just be being a little bit mean now.

You hadn’t intended to spend your last three classes of the day purposely trying to get a rise out of Dave but that’s how it was turning out. You were blaming the behavior on what happened at lunch. You and Dave were best bros, there were lots of times when there was some totally platonic, full-on physical contact and yet you had never noticed him tense up like he did today at lunch. Normally Dave was totally cool and collected but for some reason today he got very easily flustered. He even stuttered a few times which he only ever did when he was super embarrassed or nervous. Honestly you found it kind of adorable but considering Dave would probably want to kick your ass if he heard that you never said anything about it.

But now it’s last hour, math class, and though Dave is in the seat in front of you, you can tell he’s embarrassed. First of all he’s blushing. All the way to the tips of his ears, which really is the only reason you can tell. He’s also tense, sitting a little more forward in his seat than he normally would. And lastly he still hasn’t responded to your note.  The two of you had been passing notes for the better half of the class you last passed one to him nearly ten minutes ago and still haven’t received a response.

You were a little worried you had taken it too far. You knew Dave wasn’t entirely heterosexual, though he had never claimed a specific sexuality, but he didn’t know you were anything but just that. You didn’t want him to think you were just making fun of him. Good-natured teasing was one thing but it was just wrong if you actually hurt or bothered Dave. You also thought that maybe you were reading things wrong. Just because you wanted Dave to be interested in you didn’t mean he actually was and you’d rather pine from afar than screw up your friendship with your best bro.

The little paper square you and Dave had been passing notes on hits you square on the nose. Dave must have thrown in back while you were lost in thought. Trying not to be too obvious about it you unfold the paper a little too eagerly. The two of you had been discussing you hanging out at Dave’s over the weekend. It wasn’t an odd conversation; most weekends were spent together at your place or his. Discussing it seemed more like a formality than anything. You quickly scanned over the page, filled with sloppy blue and red chicken scratch to make sure Dave hadn’t gone back to an earlier point in the conversation and made a new comment. He did that sometimes. He also sometimes started drawing right over his words so that you had to convince him to rewrite whatever he was trying to say somewhere else so you could actually read it. And started random raps along the margins of the page. Everything seemed to be as it was when you sent the note so you finally look down to the bottom of the page where you really want to read. Your last message sticks out in oddly dark letters.

_awesome! it’s a date! :)_

Dave’s bright red, slightly-neater response is under it. You almost don’t want to look but your desire to read it is stronger.

 _you bet your ass it is_  
_gonna be the best damn date ever  
ill rock your fucking socks off egbert_

You smiled, folding the paper back up and sliding it into your pocket. What were you thinking? This was Dave you were talking about. How could you be worried?

\-->Your name is Dave Strider and you’re fairly certain strifing with your brother while avoiding his fucking puppets, Rose’s way too personal questions, and Roxy’s overly-affectionate behavior when she’s intoxicated all together is less taxing than having an extremely attractive, bizarrely happy, painfully straight best friend.

The school bell rang ten minutes ago. It’s Friday. You’re done with school for the week. Your best friend is coming over to spend the weekend with you. You should be excited. Instead you’re…nervous? You try to tell yourself Striders don’t get nervous but you’re really starting to think you are.

John’s walking a few feet ahead of you, chatting with Jade and Rose. He’s not concerned. He’s used to you dragging behind. You kind of think you should pick up the pace and walk with them so that you’re _not_ in the prime position to be starting at his ass but you can’t bring yourself to move any faster. It’s John’s idea of warm outside so he’s in baggy khaki shorts instead of the tight jeans he wore all winter so there shouldn’t even be something remotely interesting _about_ his backside but it’s like the image of John’s toned derriere in that dark denim is seared into your brain and you just can’t help but stare at it now. You consider the fact that you may need psychological help if your obsession with your best bro’s rear-end continues much longer. But you dismiss the thought a moment later. You know what your problem is and going to a professional-or Rose-would just be a waste of everyone’s time because you would all come to the same conclusion you had reached months ago when he came back from his great-uncle’s place tanned and toned and tall and gorgeous.

You have it bad for your best bro and it’s just getting worse as time passes. It doesn’t help that John hasn’t dated anyone, or even really shown interest in anyone, since he broke up with his freaky girlfriend Vriska in sophomore year and he recently has been way more…physical with you. But you have a bad feeling that even if neither of those things were true, you would still be just as far gone.

The three of them reach your beat-up pick-up truck and stop to wait for you. John digs out his car keys from his pocket and turns them over to Jade who would drive his car home. They were next door neighbors and John always gave her rides to school. She always drove his car home when John stays at your place unless it’s a big shindig with the whole group. Rose usually drove your truck home when you went to John’s. You finally catch up with them and all say your goodbyes. Your truck only has a single bench seat in the cab so you, John, and Rose all throw your bags in the bed of the truck and squeeze yourselves into the cab, Rose in the middle of you and John because she’s the smallest. Part of you almost wishes Rose wasn’t with you. The other part of you is glad Rose is there to keep you from doing something stupid before the weekend even starts.

The drive from the school to the house where you and your three siblings live isn’t too long. Upon arrival Rose immediately retreats into her bedroom, requesting not to be disturbed, and you and John claim the couch. If Roxy and Dirk are home, there isn’t a sign of them.

You and John waste no time starting what will most likely be a weekend-long “gaming extravaganza” (John’s dad coined the term back when the two of you were freshman and for some unexplainable reason it stuck) and for the most part you could ignore your usually painfully obvious crush on your best friend. Even with John’s entire side pressing intimately against your own so that you’re not only stealing some of his over abundant body heat but you can also feel every little vibration when he speaks or laughs you can pretend for a while you’re not seriously lusting over the big dweeb.

It has to be close to seven o’clock when Dirk appears, seemingly out of nowhere, to stand in front of the television, blocking specifically your view, and asks if the two of you want pizza for dinner. Normally you’re suspicious of Dirk offering up food like that without any prompting but since he tends to be slightly more behaved whenever guests are over (though with how often John is over you sometimes wonder if he really counts as a guest anymore) you both give him an affirmative and he sticks around just long enough for you to lose the current round and call in the order.

Grumbling about the loss, you pause the game as John gets up to go to the bathroom. As soon as you hear the bathroom door shut Dirk reappears in the living room.

“How’s it goin’, little bro?” He asks casually, leaning against the door frame. Immediately your eyes fly to him. You know that voice. It’s his I-know-something-you-don’t-want-me-to voice.

“Whatever Rose told you is probably bullshit.” You both know your lie is about as lame as they come but for some reason that doesn’t stop you from saying it.

“He is pretty cute.” Dirk continues, as if you had just gushed to him all the details of your sorry little crush. “Shame he isn’t wearing those nice jeans anymore. Those dark wash ones with the ripped knee, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a pair of pants cup an ass quite as nicely as those ones did save for those shorts his cousin wears.” Jake English, the only “cousin” Dirk could be talking about wasn’t really John’s cousin. He was Jade’s. But considering John and Jade were practically raised like siblings it made sense that John counted him as family. You hoped Dirk was planning to stop there but of course, probably just to torment you some more, he keeps talking. You look around the room, trying to ignore your brother. For once one of his damn creepy plush dolls isn’t hanging around. Unfortunately for you since if there had been one you would have promptly used it to smother yourself so that you no longer had to listen to your brother compliment your crush’s finer assets.

Suddenly you notice water running and realize John is almost done in the bathroom. Dirk is still rambling about his something-or-another. Your reaction? Throw the nearest thing at Dirk. It’s an empty cup and even if he hadn’t moved when you threw it, it wouldn’t have reached him but it got you the desired effect of him leaving so that didn’t matter at the moment.

John returns a moment later and smiles at you, reclaiming his seat at your side. Wordless the two of you start up the game once again. You only get through one round when the doorbell rings. You pause the game. From your position on the couch, or more accurately on the floor in front of the couch, you can only see half of your brother’s back and a small portion of the front door.

“Pizza delivery to the Strider-Lalonde Residence.” You and John can’t see the speaker but there’s no mistaking the accented voice hidden from view. The pizza delivery guy is Jake English. No wonder your brother was so willing to order you pizza. It isn’t really a secret to anyone that Dirk has a thing for Jake. Well you weren’t so sure if Jake had caught on quite yet but you at least knew your brother was as hopeless crushing on Jake as you were on John.

You and John exchange looks. One way or another, you were most definitely going to use this against Dirk.

Once Dirk keeps Jake way over the normal amount of time it would take for a simple pizza delivery, he drops off the larger of the two pizza boxes to you and John and stalks out of the room. Not wasting time with formalities or other needless things like plates the two of you dig in. You both get through about two and half pieces before disaster strikes.

You’re absorbed in the act of devouring your third slice of pizza when John swears next to you. You turn your head to see what happened. Somehow he had managed to drop his pizza into his lap, smearing sauce and grease all across the front of his shorts.

Your first reaction is to think nothing of it. Then John stands up, dropping the half-eaten slice onto the box and you can feel yourself stop breathing. You’re not quite sure if John realizes what he’s doing but there’s a hunk of half chewed dough and cheese stuck in your throat, effectively stopping any type of noise or warning from escaping as John unbuttons his shorts and wiggles out of them. In the middle of the living room. Right in front of you.

You are currently eye level with bright blue boxer-brief covered junk of your best friend and you honestly think your brain is starting to shut down.

“I’m going to go put some soap on this before it stains.” John announces like this is the most normal thing in the world and walks out of the room.

\-->Your name is John Egbert and OOPS.

You are currently in the Strider-Lalonde residence laundry room trying not to panic. You don’t know what you were thinking, just stripping in the middle of the living room like that other than that you _weren’t_ thinking. There was most definitely such a thing as “too comfortable” with someone or somewhere. Sure this wasn’t the first time Dave had seen you in your underwear but who just strips in the middle of their best friend’s living room? And you hadn’t even thought about your positions. Maybe if you hadn’t glanced down at Dave while you were in the living room it wouldn’t have occurred to you but you did and now you can’t seem to get the image of your best bro’s flushed face level with your crotch out of your mind.

You want to crawl in a hole and hide until, hopefully, Dave forgets the entire incident. Or drown yourself in the rinse cycle of the washing machine. Both sound like entirely reasonable options.

The door to the basement opens and you turn, horrified, to find Dirk climbing up the stairs. The older Strider takes one look at you, puts the pizza box he was carrying on the edge of the trash can, and promptly turns around and walks back downstairs. You feel your cheeks grow even hotter. Wonderful. Now exactly half of the household has seen you without pants on.

Grumbling and cursing to yourself for your own stupidity you start searching for stain remover.

Not a full minute passes before you hear a surprised, distinctly feminine “Oh.” from the doorway. You turn, but you’re pretty sure you already know who’s there.

Sure enough, Rose is standing, half in the hallway half in the laundry room, with a laundry basket cradled against her hip. Well shit. Might as well call Roxy down to the laundry room just to make sure she’s not feeling left out.

“This is an interesting new look for you John.” Rose finally breaks the silence, stepping fully into the room and giving you a small, knowing smile as if she’s already figured out exactly what happened.

Instead of acknowledging her comment you look back at the cluttered shelf above the washer and dryer with a small noise of complaint. “Do you have any stain remover?”

Taking pity on you, Rose puts down her basket and pushes around some bottles until she finds a dark blue one that proclaims ‘STAIN REMOVER’ in big white letters. You lamely offer to help but Rose brushes your offer off and very efficiently preps your shorts to be washed.

“I can put them in the next white load.” Rose says simply, laying them out over the top of the dryer and returning to her basket to bring it closer to the washer. “They’ll be clean and wearable before you leave tomorrow.”

“Thank you Rose you’re a life saver.” You sort of want to hug Rose but decide against it. It’s already a little weird hugging Rose; you don’t need to make things any more awkward trying to hug her without pants on.

You fidget around the laundry room a little longer, mostly because you’re a little scared to go back to the living room, but Rose eventually kicks you out with the threat that if you stay any longer she’s going to make you sort through the laundry to find her and Roxy’s “delicates.” Rose is great and admittedly you had a bit of a crush on Roxy when you were growing up but you really do not need to know either girl that intimately.

Before returning to the living room you stop in Dave’s room. The fourth drawer in his dresser is filled with your clothing, for impromptu sleepovers such as this one. You pull on a pair of pajama pants and go back downstairs.

Dave hasn’t touched the pizza since you left. The game the two of you had been playing before is still open to the paused menu screen. Dave doesn’t appear to have moved, even slightly, from the positon he was in when you fled the living room earlier. Nervously you run your hands through your hair a few times and adjust your glasses. When you move to return to your seat besides Dave you try to act as if everything is perfectly normal.

“Sorry about that.” You open, dropping back onto the floor and crossing your legs. “Didn’t want it to stain…new shorts and all that…”

At first it doesn’t seem like Dave even heard you then suddenly he nods, almost like snapping back to his senses and acknowledging you all at once.

“Right. Dadbert would’ve gotten mad. Wouldn’t want that.”  Dave gives you a quick, signature, Strider smirk and just like that, things are back to normal.

\-->Your name is Dave Strider and you’re still not sure how you managed to act normal after John’s little strip-show in the living room. Somehow though, you did it, and the two of you returned to your gaming until around one-thirty in the morning when Dirk showed up and shooed you out of the living room, insisting he had “shit it do.”

It didn’t really occur to either of you just how tired you were until you had to trudge up a flight of stairs to your bedroom. You hardly remembered to shut your door behind you as the two of you shuffled inside the dark room and flopped onto your bed. For a while you both just laid there in the quiet darkness. You were almost starting to fall asleep when you heard John start mumbling something about brushing his teeth and trying to sit up. Turning you head to face him you throw an arm over John, effectively stopping him in his tracks and he lies against the bed beside you once again.

“Break the rules once in a while, Egbert.” You mutter, your words partially muffled by the blankets beneath you. “Be all gross and stinky with me for a night and just forget about that.”

Its dark in your room without any lights and your shades still on but you can still see John’s nose wrinkle at the suggestion. But you don’t move your arm from around his waist and John never makes a move to try and leave after that.

You’re starting to fall asleep again when John reaches over and plucks your glasses from your face. Your eyes blink open in surprise, forced to adjust to the change in light all over again. John’s own glasses are still on his face, crooked from being pressed against your mattress and he looks ridiculous with his crooked glasses and messy hair and dreamy smile but he also looks unbelievably adorable in your bed and you kind of really want to kiss him.

“What are you doing Egbert?” You croak instead, reaching up one hand to rub sleepily at your eye. John keeps watching you with his dorky smile and bright eyes.

“Your eyes are pretty Dave. It’s nice to be able to see them once in a while.”

You freeze because on one hand you think you must be imagining things but on the other you are really certain you heard those words come from John. Then suddenly lips are pressed against your own and your eyes are fluttering closed and you’re thinking, oh great you’ve really gone off the deep end now actually acting on your desire to kiss John but it’s not you who started the kiss. At least you’re pretty sure you’re not the one who started it. Even if it was you, the one in charge now seemed to be John. He was the one who was shifting your positions so that your back was pressed against the mattress while you were chest to chest with your best friend, kissing like a couple of teenagers who mostly had no idea what you were doing.

When John breaks the kiss for air he’s all but straddling you in this position. His glasses are even more skewed than they were before. You can tell he’s scared, not sure what your reaction to the kiss is going to be, but he’s trying to smile at you like this is all perfectly normal.

You want to say something to him, anything really, but you can’t seem to find your voice. Instead you pluck his glasses off his nose as well. John squints at you in the dark, not quite sure what to make of that reaction and also because your image is now blurry. John’s about as blind as a bat without his glasses. You’re not sure how long you lie there under John, studying him in the pale light coming through your window. His eyes are still so damn bright they’re practically glowing. You can tell your lack of response is starting to make John nervous and he starts shifting uncomfortably over you. He opens his mouth to say something, and that’s when you strike. Burying your hand in his hair you pull him closer, pressing your lips against his own and shoving your tongue in his mouth before he can say anything. Instead he just moans into your mouth and the sound sends shivers over your entire body.

There were still a lot of things about John you didn’t understand but lying in your bed with his body flush against your own, in that moment it was perfectly okay.

**Author's Note:**

> It seems like there could be more to the story but this was never supposed to be long and it's already 8-nearly 9-full pages so I had to end it before I drove myself crazy.
> 
> I'm sorry if there were any typos. I tried my best to go back through and find them all but it seems there's always a few that I miss.


End file.
